


Baking Gods (or, not so much)

by biscuityskies



Series: The 12 Days of Ficmas [2]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Established Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Han Jisung | Han cannot bake, Han Jisung | Han is a mess, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I choked on fluff, Lee Minho | Lee Know is done, M/M, Minsung is a gorgeous ship, Someone save this bean, The cutest boyfriends, This fluff tho omg, and this happened, baking mishaps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 16:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17125073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biscuityskies/pseuds/biscuityskies
Summary: Han Jisung cannot bake.





	Baking Gods (or, not so much)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second posting in two days!! Christmas break, man, it’s a frickin miracle 
> 
> Basically, the summary says it all. 
> 
> Thanks again to my bestie betas, spacenicoo and Lovely, ily guys so much omfg
> 
> Enjoy!! 💙

“Oh, shit.” 

Minho looked up from his book in concern. Jisung was in the kitchen, messing around with... something. Jisung in the kitchen was a potential issue to begin with, but if he was attempting cooking....

“Oh, no.” 

But Jisung surely couldn’t be trying to cook anything. There was far too much banging and clattering of pans for anything to actually be accomplished. 

“Aw, fuck.” 

And besides, some things with Jisung were better left alone. Being the boyfriend of one of the world’s most chaotic people for three years taught him that there were plenty of times when Jisung was beyond assistance. Minho looked back down at his book and tried to keep reading. 

“Oh god— oh n— oh g— oh. Okay. Uhhh....”

Minho scrunched up his nose. That really didn’t bode well, and he figured he should probably intervene before the house burned to the ground. He put his book down and started walking toward the kitchen. “Jisungie?” 

Jisung popped his head around the doorway. “Yeah?”

“Everything okay?” 

Jisung scoffed lightly. “Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine. It’s good. I have it all under control.” He winced as something behind him crashed to the ground. “It’s fine,” he squeaked again, before turning back to the kitchen to tend to whatever had just happened. 

“As long as you’re sure,” Minho replied cautiously, watching Jisung’s back retreat into the kitchen. 

“Yes, I’m good, thank you, hyung!”

Minho hummed and returned to the couch, picking up his book again and opening it to his page, allowing a moment to pass before shutting it without even looking at it. “Remember you can’t cook, Sungie,” he called through. 

There was a long pause. “I can fucking cook, hyung,” Jisung eventually called from the kitchen. 

Minho cocked his head to the side. “Actually, last time you tried to make ramen, you failed.” 

“I just forgot to measure the water, jeez.” 

“Not to mention you murdered the mac n’ cheese, too.” 

“How was it my fault that the cheese powder—“

“You also broke the microwave last year—“

“Aw, come on, babe, that was last year—“

“By putting metal in it—“

“Hey, I didn’t put the fork there.” 

“And on top of all that,” Minho concluded, “you tried to cut a potato last week with the blade of the knife facing upward, and narrowly avoided slicing off your entire upper finger, though you did manage to lose a good portion of your nail.”

Jisung came around the corner of the doorway, levelling a glare at Minho. He squinted, before flipping up his still-bandaged middle finger and turning back to the kitchen. 

Minho rolled his eyes and stood up again, tossing his book back onto the coffee table. “What are you trying to do, dear? What are you trying to make so desperately that you— holy fuck.” He rounded the corner, and the kitchen... oh god, the kitchen was a mess. 

From the ingredients scattered around the kitchen, it looked like his boyfriend was trying to make something sweet. Maybe cookies? But the oven was on and there was clearly something inside it, because something really smelled like it was burning. 

“Jisungie, babe, what are you trying to make?” Minho’s sighed eventually. 

“What do you mean, trying? I’m obviously making cookies.” 

Minho choked on air. “Those are cookies?”

Jisung crinkled his nose up in return. “Yeah, what did you think they were, inedible lumps of carbon? Because you’re absolutely right.” He sat down at the island bar and plopped his head down on a miraculously clear spot, dangerously near a can of sprinkles. “I can’t bake,” he groaned. 

It took all of Minho’s effort to avoid bursting into laughter as he walked behind Jisung to gently massage his shoulders. “That would appear to be true.” 

“I just wanted to make a surprise, but I’m clearly incapable.” 

“Hey, hey. It’s fine. How about we try again, together this time?” 

Jisung sniffed. “Sure,” he said, rather dejectedly. 

“Okay. Let’s start by getting the other lumps of carbon out of the oven and getting that pan washed up so we can use it again, yeah?”

Jisung nodded and stood up. He opened the oven and was about to grab the cookie sheet with his bare hand. 

“Stop!” Minho squeaked. “Oven mitt!” 

“Oh... yeah.” Jisung tugged on the oven mitt and then grabbed the cookie sheet, inspecting them carefully. “These ones aren’t completely lumps of charred yuck,” he said, shrugging. “That’s good news.” 

Minho smiled and pulled the recipe that Jisung had been using out from under the mixer. “Okay. Two sticks of margarine. One cup of cane sugar, and one cup of cane sugar with cane sugar syrup.” 

Jisung stopped to look up at Minho with his lip curled up in confusion. “The fuck does that mean?”

“Brown sugar.” Minho grabbed the sugars from the cupboard and Jisung handed him the dairy. “Okay. We have to mix these toge— Jisung, honey, this is butter.” 

“That’s what you said to grab.” 

“No, I said margarine. It says margarine in the recipe. We can’t use butter, babe.” 

Jisung’s mouth formed a silent ‘o’, and he returned the butter to the fridge in favour of margarine. “Okay. What would’ve happened if we used butter?” 

“The cookies wouldn’t rise,” Minho replied without looking up from measuring the sugars. 

“Oh. Okay.” Jisung smiled sheepishly, avoiding doing anything else pertaining to the cookies. 

That didn’t work too well for him, though, when Minho needed to tend to the mix and add flour at the same time. 

“Jisungie, will you—“

“Whatever you’re gonna say, I think it’s a bad idea, hyung,” Jisung said quickly, before Minho could say anything else. “I’m not sure I should be doing anything.” 

Minho snorted. “Sungie, I need the flour.” 

“I dunno, hyung....” 

“Jisungie, get the flour, please.” 

Jisung sighed and stood up. “Okay, fine, but whatever goes wrong is not my fault. For the record.” 

Minho laughed again. “Okay, well, quickly, now.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Jisung opened the pantry, looking for the flour. 

Half a minute passed, and the window for putting in the flour was rapidly closing. “You got it yet?” 

“Success!” Jisung yelled back, grabbing the flour and carefully hurrying to where Minho was. 

Only a few steps away from his boyfriend, a can of red sprinkles toppled off of the table and onto the floor, spilling right below where Jisung was putting his foot. 

“Fuck—“ and Jisung slipped. 

Minho watched Jisung fall in slow motion. It was truly graceful, he threw his arms out in front of him as his legs flew out behind him. The flour was thrown from Jisung’s hands, toward Minho, hitting him and spraying everywhere. Jisung landed on his stomach, and time resumed at a normal pace. 

The mixer whirring was joined by Jisung’s groaning and Minho’s spluttering. 

“What the fuck just happened?” Jisung winced and picked himself up off of the ground, rubbing at his ribs. 

Minho coughed up flour in return. He was covered in it. To be fair, the rest of the kitchen was, too, as was Jisung. 

“What, uh, what exactly were you trying to make these cookies for?” 

Jisung sniffed and immediately sneezed flour out of his nose. “I’ve got a party that I need to leave for in half an hour.” 

Minho sighed, a smile making its way across his face. “Okay. How about we start cleanup,” he suggested, running a hand through his hair to dislodge flour, “and then we go to the store first to buy some sugar cookies?” 

Jisung nodded and pushed himself off of the floor. “Yeah. That sounds good.” 

“Good try, though, babe. I’m sure if it weren’t for the sprinkles, you would’ve done it.” 

“Fuck you. When it comes to laws, Murphy’s always wins. I should pay attention to it more often.” 

Minho laughed and pulled Jisung closer by the shoulders, bringing his hands up to cradle the younger’s cheeks. “I love you, Sungie.” 

“I love you, too, Minho-ah,” Jisung replied, a small smile crossing his features. 

“Let’s get cleaned up, babe.”

**Author's Note:**

> FLUFF!! 
> 
> Also, all of the works during this series will work with one another, so. Look forward to more fluffy Minsung, namely Jisung’s Terrible Kitchen Skills™
> 
> Okay so I tried to link a thing on the last fic and it didn’t?? work???? So both my tumblr and my Twitter are @biscuityskies in case y’all wanna come chat (I need friends. Please love me.) 
> 
> Thanks for reading, hopefully I’ll be back with another part to this series tomorrow!


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